Even the Broken
by pratz
Summary: Even the broken, the bent, the bowed deserve a chance of salvation. Piper and Alex, post-Litchfield. ::Complete::
1. Chapter 1

**Even the Broken**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: _Orange is the New Black_ belongs to Jenji Kohan and co. _Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women's Prison_ belongs to Piper Kerman.

AN: I'm in a serious _Orange_ withdrawal, and I need to know I'm not the only one here.

-.-.-.-

The universe must really hate her.

Behind the rim of her glasses, Alex's eyes widens at the sight of blood splattered all over Piper's shirt, jacket, and hands. Why does it have to be Alex? Is this the way the universe get retribution for all Piper's wrongdoings? Why her!

Predictably, Alex curses. _What the hell did you do this time?_ But she doesn't wait for an answer. Like always. Alex always decides for her, and Piper decides for the both of them. That's how their relationship works—and fucks up.

She is dragged to a dark alcove behind the chapel, stripped off her jacket and shirt, and made to wear Alex's instead. Her eyes widen in realization and terror. _No, you don't_, she chokes. _You can't_.

She can't see Alex's eyes in the dark, but she hears her say, _Just shut up and go my way_.[1]

-.-.-.-

Healy is fuming that he can't prove that Alex isn't involved and Piper is solely responsible for beating the shit out of Pensatucky, but he does make sure Alex serves time in the SHU until MLK Jr's Day and gets another year added to her sentence. Piper gets demoted to The Rooms and serves a janitorial duty for the same period. She counts the days diligently and forces herself to go through the days. _You can do it, Chapman_, she tells herself. _You can._

_She takes your place,_ her inner voice tells her. _Of course you can. You must._

On the twenty-fifth day, Taystee picks a TV channel randomly and stops at a channel that's currently playing Lenny Kravitz's _I'll Be Waiting_.

Piper throws up her lunch that day and is so sick that even Red comes to visit her in her bunk.

-.-.-.-

Though Alex somehow has to be supported as she walks back to her dorm by Nicky and Morello on each of her side, she doesn't bow. Her head is set, her chin up, and her mouth in a firm, thin line. Yet the SHU leaves its marks on her sunken cheeks, dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes, and chapped lips. Everybody is staring at her, and yet nobody dares to do anything but offers a sympathetic smile. _Your girl looks ghosty_, Taystee reports the event as Piper is working in the electrical workshop during. _Hope she ain't got fucked up in the head._

Prison, Piper learns, is not built to imprison bodies. Prison is built to shatter even the strongest spirit.

-.-.-.-

Pensatucky doesn't bother her anymore after the fallout. She even looks afraid just to look at her, and for that Piper is glad. Nobody else touches Piper, and nobody talks to her more than necessary. All the better. She doesn't want to anyway.

_Fucking high school,_ Nicky grumbles. _All pussies, scared shitless. Not gonna start another bloodletting, aren't you, Chapman?_

Wrong, Piper thinks. In high school, everything is bright and glittery and happy.

She takes a glance at Alex at the other end of the table.

This is life, and not everything is bright and glittery and happy.

-.-.-.-

Two months after the incident, she is in the middle of a phone talk with Polly when she gets the idea to ask Polly to buy her some books and send them to Litchfield. A week later, Jamie James' _Andrew and Joey_, Adrian Vickers' _A Modern History of Indonesia_, and Karl May's _And Peace on Earth_ arrive for her.[2] She returns to her bunk in The Rooms, grabs a Post-It, writes _thank you_, and slips it into one of the books.

She leaves the books on top of Alex's pillow.

Two days later, Alex is reading _And Peace on Earth_ in the common room.

They can never be friends, Piper knows, but at least they can stop thinking of each other as nothing.

-.-.-.-

She dreams about Larry sometimes, and she dreams about Alex most of the time. Half of them are nice dreams, the rest nightmares. In one of the nightmares, she is standing in front of Alex's SHU chamber. Her hand reaches inside through the small food window, and she calls for Alex. Once. Twice.

_Please don't leave, _she hears, but when she crouches and peeks inside, all she can see is a pair of feet hanging above the cold floor.

She wakes up with a start and screams so loud that even some night guards come to get her and bark orders at her to get a fucking hold of herself and be quiet if she doesn't want to be sent to the SHU again, but she can't hear anything except a litany of _pleasedon'tleavepleasedon'tleavepleasedon'tleave_.

Hence why she can't fight the relief that washes over her whenever she sees Alex stand in line for breakfast.

-.-.-.-

A week before her release, she writes another Post-It note before going to the laundry room. As always, Alex is on duty there by herself. The guards have known better not to put Pensatucky and Alex together for a regular duty, so they move Pensatucky to janitorial duty. How apt for her and her evangelical shits, Piper thinks.

Then it dawns on her. What should she say? Should she say _hi?_ Or _how are you?_ _I'm glad you're doing fine?_ Does she have to say anything at all? Fuck.

Alex looks up and their eyes meet for a brief moment before she looks away, writes a receipt for Piper, and hands it to her. Piper takes the chance to grab Alex's hand. She finally decides to start with a simple hi.

_Don't you have enough?_ Alex says tiredly, but she doesn't retract her hand.

_I_, she hesitates, _I've never had a chance to thank y—_

_Save it_, Alex cuts her.

She nods. _Okay_. Another nod. Then she slips her Post-It into Alex's hand. _Here_.

Alex takes it, reading it for a second before anger flashes across her face. _What the fuck._

_My number. I want you to put me on your list._

_Look—_

_Please._

Alex grows quiet.

_Please._

Alex doesn't say anything, but she quietly pockets the Post-It and leaves the laundry room.

-.-.-.-

Alex isn't there when the inmates throw a farewell party for her, and she isn't there, too, when everybody bids her goodbye.

-.-.-.-

Life goes on, Piper knows. People get married, have children, live their live. She does, too. She doesn't look back. She doesn't want to, and she can't because she has burnt all the bridges and built walls.

That is, until one snowy day when New York is freezing and waiting for the New Year countdown, and her phone rings.

She almost drops her phone when she hears the automated announcement of a call from prison, then a familiar voice greets her from the other side of the line at the same Times Square erupts in cheers.

_Happy New Year, kid._

-.-.-.-

* * *

[1] From _Orange_ the memoir: Lenny Kravitz's _Are You Gonna Go My Way_ is the song that plays when the real Piper is asked to go to Indonesia.

[2] These three books are about or in some parts take setting in Indonesia, where the real Piper goes with her drug dealer girlfriend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Even the Broken**

Author: pratz

Disclaimer: _Orange is the New Black_ belongs to Jenji Kohan and co. _Orange is the New Black: My Year in a Women's Prison_ belongs to Piper Kerman.

AN: I'd like to use House Tyrell's words for this fandom: Growing Strong. Let me know what you think of this story and thank you!

-.-.-.-

It's a sweltering Sunday when she visits Alex for the first time after she's settled with the whole big fuss of returning to society. Litchfield is still unfriendly as ever, and the guards in the visitation room look bored as usual. Whatever. They don't matter.

The woman sitting across her does.

Alex's eyes shift to the simple band of gold on Piper's finger then back to her face again. _Congratulations, I guess,_ she says.

Piper swallows. _Thank you._

Alex looks away, her figure illuminated by the faint light from the window. Gorgeous, Piper thinks, but she quickly chastises herself for ever looking at someone else when she is already married.

_Have you forgiven me?_

Alex turns to look her in the eye, and Piper suddenly dreads the answer.

_I've never forgotten._

-.-.-.-

She finds out that Alex still has ten years to serve from the total twelve years sentence.

-.-.-.-

For their first anniversary, Larry brings her to Mount Washington in New Hampshire. _This is the highest elevation in the whole New England_, he says proudly—proud of what? Of discovering a mountain that has always been there? Of discovering the fact that it's the highest in the Northeastern area? Such childish enthusiasm, Piper thinks, but she does love being outdoor, surrounded by nature and the people she loves. It's been a long time.

She remembers looking out the window to see the majestic, snow-tipped Mount Fuji stand gloriously with Lake Ashi as its foreground, and on the bed behind her Alex stirs from her sleep only to hog the blanket to ward off the chill of a Hakone morning.

_The bed is cold,_ Alex says. _Come back._

She misses Japan, she guesses.

-.-.-.-

Visitors are only allowed two hugs in the visitation room, one at the beginning and one at the end of the visit.

Alex never gives her a hug. Not even once. Not even a handshake.

She misses that, too.

She wants that.

-.-.-.-

One day, Alex appears with a freshly looking cut above her left eyebrow. _I slammed my head on Myra's door_, she says. _Bitch needed fixing all the time._

She can't help chuckling. _At least you weren't locked inside this time._

Alex flashes a small smile—the first one in what feels like ages. _I'd still be the hot one who's locked inside._

_Yes, you would,_ she says without thinking, then blushing after realizing that she has said it out loud.

If anything, it makes Alex smile a bit wider.

-.-.-.-

On another day, Alex happens to appear with what looks like a fading hickie on her neck, and Piper feels even sicker than when Larry drops a hint about children in their pillow talk.

-.-.-.-

She brings Alex a copy of _Eat, Pray, Love_ on her next visit. Alex is skeptical about the book, but she accepts it nevertheless. _We know better some of those places than this author_, Alex reasons.

_Her journey is different from ours,_ she replies. _She's looking for herself._

Alex is quiet for a moment before saying, _You're right. We had everything back then we didn't have to look for anything._ Then she raises a hand as if to stop Piper from responding. _Forget it._

She wonders if Alex knows how impossible it is to forget. It isn't fair to Larry and Alex, she knows, but she is damned to never be able to stop.

After all, Alex uses to be her life.

-.-.-.-

Three years into marriage, she finds that all her letters to Litchfield returned and her calls rejected. They are no longer responsible for Inmate Vause, they say. And Piper goes into panic. Is she transferred to another prison? Does she get in trouble and moved to a higher security level prison? Why doesn't Alex tell her anything? Is it because she's not as important as she thinks to Alex as Alex is to her?

_Give it a break,_ Polly says. _Perhaps it's the best for you both. You have your life, and she has hers—no matter where she is. You'll get over her eventually._

_No_, she finds herself saying. _No, I can't._

-.-.-.-

_Please don't leave._

Funny. Now she's the one who wants to scream those words out loud.

-.-.-.-

Another three-year passes, and she hasn't heard anything about or from Alex. She considers writing to the Warden of Litchfield or to someone in the Department of Justice, but in the end she doesn't go with it. It isn't until she chance-meets Officer Fischer in a supermarket during a Thanksgiving break. The kind officer is the first to smile and greet her, and that's why Piper can't help asking her if she knows anything about Alex.

Fischer looks uncomfortable. She looks around a bit as if to make sure nobody is around to eavesdrop. _DEA got her._ Then she adds, _They specifically asked for her._

Jesus.

-.-.-.-

In the seventh year of marriage, Larry files for divorce after months of emotionally exhausting quarrels and fallouts.

She's too numb to process anything and too tired to even cry. _I'm sorry I can't be a good wife to you._

_You're a good wife,_ he says, equally tired. _I just can't stand being second anymore._

-.-.-.-

There's a postcard addressed to her office three months after her divorce is finalized. It doesn't have the sender's name, but it bears a picture of the legendary Manneken Pis and a Brussels stamp.

At the back, a simple, familiar writing is drabbled. She'll recognize that handwriting every time.

It reads, _'Hope you're not too pissed off and return to your old temper.'_

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

She laughs so hard that her co-workers come running to get her, wondering why she's doubling over on the floor in a mess of tears and laughter.

-.-.-.-

A few months later, another postcard is waiting for her in her new office in London.

It's a picture of white sand beaches sprawled across lush small islands. Tahiti, she realizes.

It reads, _'I get here first.'_

-.-.-.-

In a clear Boxing Day morning—which in itself is a rarity, Piper turns on the TV to watch the news about the capture of a West African drug kingpin after a tense four-hour, joint US-British raid and shooting in a flat in Kingston upon Thames.[1] She dashes out, grabbing her car key, forgetting that she still has a few hair rollers on her head and is still in her pajamas, because her flat is just 20 minutes from the raid location, and perhaps—perhaps—

The area is already closed and guarded by heavily armed police, and bystanders can only watch from afar. She sees some handcuffed men being herded into police units, and her heart never beats this fast as she scans the crowd.

Only to end up disappointed because she can't find who she is looking for.

Piper holds back a sob as she drives back to her flat, and she remains glued to the TV the whole day, still hoping to catch a familiar face on the screen. Even a glimpse will do. Stupid, she knows. Hoping like this is stupid.

Or perhaps not, because the next day her bell is rung and a stem of white lily is left on her porch. Attached with it is a silly card picturing Santa Claus dressed only in plaid boxers like O'Neill's.

The card reads, _'You're beautiful even with hair rollers and pajamas.'_

-.-.-.-

She gets a copy of the Archbishop of the Church of England's Christmas Address from a co-worker. _I think you'll like the message,_ her co-worker says, _because you always look like you're pretending not to be sad._

The Christmas Address reads, _'Even the broken, the bent, the bowed deserve a chance of salvation. Hope is not lost. Love is not lost.'_

-.-.-.-

She calls Larry before New Year's Eve. He's doing well with his oncoming book, and he has been out for a couple of dates with an NYU assistant professor. Piper is happy for him. For everything that has happened, he deserves happiness, too.

_Oh, and Larry?_

_Yes?_

_I think I can confidently say now that I know a real life Jason Bourne-like person._

-.-.-.-

On January 2, her bell is rung again.

The door opens to reveal the woman she has always been thinking of.

Alex doesn't change much through the years. She keeps the length of her hair similar to when she is in Litchfield. Yet the lines at the corners of her mouth and on her forehead are more visible, and her eyes, too, seem aged. The duvet bag she carries on her shoulder shows marks of wear, a silent testament of the long, hard won battle she has fought.

Piper opens her mouth, but words betray and leave her on her own.

Then Alex smiles, really smiles, soft and somewhat remorseful.

_Hi, Pipes._

- fin -

* * *

[1] In _Orange_ the memoir, the West African drug kingpin that real life Alex works for is captured in London on a US warrant.

Endnote:

Even _Orange_ the memoir doesn't tell what happens to the real life Alex after Piper serves her time. My idea of Alex being offered a deal by law enforcers comes from the deal between the real Frank Abegnale, Jr and the FBI. You might want to watch _Catch Me If You Can_ to know further.


End file.
